


never surrender

by hizashii



Category: Gossip Girl
Genre: F/F, Hate Sex, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 16:07:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6201943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hizashii/pseuds/hizashii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She will never admit how much it thrills her: the hate, the burning that sets its home in her stomach, the gritting of her teeth, the darkness that clouds her vision and threatens to give her game away.</p><p>The game with Vanessa is exciting in a way that it’s not with anyone else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	never surrender

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [#kissyourgirl commentathon](http://femslashbb.livejournal.com/12935.html). Prompt was: _They say the devil's water - it ain't so sweet / You don't have to drink right now / But you can dip your feet / Every once in a little while_

Blair hates Vanessa with a passion she has yet to match in regards to another. She will never understand why or, at least, she will never admit it to herself. She thinks about it, sometimes, in the dark of night, when no one is around to hear the silent thought that screams that she and Vanessa are too alike for Blair to ever let go of the pulsing hate she feels each time she enters her orbit.

She also will never admit how much it thrills her: the hate, the burning that sets its home in her stomach, the gritting of her teeth, the darkness that clouds her vision and threatens to give her game away.

The game with Vanessa is exciting in a way that it’s not with anyone else, because Vanessa plays along but never acknowledges it. She loves making it obvious, for everyone to see, because she knows no one would ever guess the truth that hides in between the silk and egyptian cotton of Blair’s sheets.

Sometimes, when she’s wasted and alone, she likes to discard her panties and move her fingers to the beat of her drumming heart; she won’t admit that she imagines Vanessa’s, rubbing lightly on her clit, entering her roughly and curving themselves trying to torture her. She won’t admit that she dreams of her smart mouth, kissing her thighs and going higher, tongue tasting slowly and then curving itself inside of her, her nose expulsing hair right into her core, driving her mad.

It was only once, _a mistake_ , but Blair’s mind can’t let go. She tells herself that thinking about it is not a crime, but she feels like a criminal afterwards, like she should be locked up for fraud, because she refuses to acknowledge the _want_ , the hot need she feels for the one she swears is her enemy.

Thinking about it, while not _safe_ , is not as dirty and wrong as doing it again. It’s okay, nothing to worry about; nobody has died from a little fantasizing, from touching themselves under the sheets, biting their lips to avoid screaming a name she doesn’t dare ever say out loud.

Sometimes, when she’s sad and lonely, she thinks Vanessa ruined her. _Maybe that was the point all along_ , she tells herself; maybe she wanted to ruin the Queen, not to take the throne but to savor the sweet victory mixed with the bitter tang of sex.

She loves making it obvious, the tension, the desire, but never the _weakness_. Blair Waldorf is _not_ weak, she’s powerful, a force to be reckoned, a _fucking_ hurricane; nothing can bring her down, not even the realization that Vanessa plays a better game than Chuck ever did, a better game than Blair herself.

She can think about it, and pretend that it has never crossed her mind since that night. She can remember the way Vanessa’s hand got rid of her dress, the way her tongue licked at her earlobe, her hard nails digging themselves into her ass when she put her closer. She can remember Vanessa looking down at her, her mouth wet from her come and ridiculously red, her eyes so dark that they looked like hell has finally burned out.

She can remember the way she gripped at her sheets, the way she had to muffle her scream on her pillow, she can remember not caring that Vanessa pulled at her hair so hard that it actually hurt. She can remember every _fucking_ detail, and each bit haunts her in her sleep, and while she’s awake, always crossing her mind at the least fortunate times.

Vanessa Abrams is despicable, but she’s also the best sex she’s ever gotten. And it infuriates her, it makes her feel like making rain hell on everyone around her, it _pisses her off_ so much that sometimes she can’t see straight.

But she thinks about it, knowing that she will never feel Vanessa’s skin against her own ever again because she won’t allow herself to admit that she wants to. She thinks about it, but pretends it never happened. Thinking about it is okay, because it means she won’t have to surrender. She won’t surrender herself to Vanessa Abrams ever again.

But, _damn_ , it feels _so good_ to think about it.


End file.
